De-centralized Place Becomes A Crooked Awning
Iíve come all this way
to work for you.
This Brazilian wax for you.
To employ my anxieties
into the new software
that detects a slowly accumulating
circumference of doubt.
My disabilities unclassifiable
unless wimp is the only word
that will survive the boundary thought.
Iím sourcing new material
from all irrelevancies.
She says vagaries
and Iím impressed.
How much asparagus will it take?
Hold me like a whale note
or hug like the dust being strangled
out of a mattress.
I do not only see trapdoors.
You build my throat from olives.
At the top of the hill  
disappointment strengthens.
I air out my body
and use the out-of-order towel.
I wish you were a coin dispenser
I would spend the next several nights
jamming the payphone into its hook
but I have to get back to Tel Aviv.


Zachary Zalman Green is the co-founder of Ghost Proposal. His work has appeared in Whiskey Island, Ilk, Columbia Poetry Review, Jellyfish Magazine, and elsewhere. He was selected by Jaswinder Bolina as a second-place recipient of the 2010 & í11 Elma Stuckey Poetry Award.